


Chasing the Dreams

by incredible_disasters



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Amnesia, Bullies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Smoking, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:17:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incredible_disasters/pseuds/incredible_disasters
Summary: He thought about the boy in the red coat, who wore sorrow like a second skin, who smelled of rain, earth and mystery. That boy made his skin prickle with excitement. There was an air of familiarity surrounding him, even though Loki was sure that he had never seen him in his life before.-“So, you don’t remember me then.” His voice was quiet, broken, and Loki just gave up. This was too much.





	Chasing the Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hi nd welcome!  
> I'd just like to say that English is not my native language and this has not been beta-read so keep that in mind please. Anyway I hope you will like it! Kudos and comments are appreciated <3

Sometimes he wondered when the world around him became so vague. Dull. Lifeless. Almost completely devoid of colour. When did he became so jaded and empty? Other times he couldn’t care less. But anytime these thoughts came, he sat on the bench near the ocean on the far side of this hellhole of town and watched how the waves crashed into each other and how the wind tried to smother his cigarettes. Sometimes it crept under the layers of his clothes (which he only wore for fashion and because he didn’t want Heimdall to worry too much about his health) and send shivers across his skin, sometimes reminding him of thousands tiny needles punctuating his skin. In times like these, the world slowed down and blurred, and even the tell-tale marks that were different shades of yellow, black, blue and brown and by now were just a part of his daily life seemed to ache less.

Today was one of those days. The thoughts were back again, they crawled back from depths of his mind on the surface when he was in school and stayed with him until now. And with them came the bench and the ocean. It was almost a routine by now, he sat there through countless Friday afternoons as wind blew and seagulls chirped.

Loki patted both pockets of his overcoat, looking for familiar box. It was deep in his left pocket. After pulling it out, he took one cigarette and hid it away again. The lighter was always in his back pocket. He stared at the objects in his hand. For a moment the objects stared right back but then he slowly put the cigarette between his lips and lit it. His fingers trembled when the lighter was back in his pocket and they had nothing to hold onto. He hid them away too, deep into his coat.

He was far too lost in his head and the sounds of whirling wind to notice the footsteps that were coming closer to him, only to stop on the other end of the bench. The strangers voice cut through his bubble like a knife through butter and would soon ring in his ears when he would try to sleep at night.

“Can I sit here?”

Loki jumped up a little, the sudden noise startling him. Quickly turning his head towards the voice, he could see a boy around his age, one that he had never seen before which meant he was not from around here. Loki knew everyone from the town and everyone from the town knew him. That’s just how small towns worked, a complete opposite of New York where he couldn’t name even half of the kids that went to his grade. The boy had no reason to look so comfortable, just standing there with an attitude like he owned the world. It was tempting to say that _no, you can’t sit here, go sit literally anywhere else._ But in the end, he just nodded because it wasn’t like he owned this place and the guy was kind of hot anyway. Bonus points if he wasn’t from here because then he would not know all the shit people said about him.

“Yeah, sure. Feel free to sit here, it’s not like this is my bench.” That wasn’t entirely true because he was only one who ever went this far and used this bench, so it was sort of his place, but he shifted to the one end of it anyway, leaving the other one to the boy. He smiled gratefully at Loki and gave him a curious look before sitting down. The wind has messed with his hair, leaving it messy with few strands here and there falling out of place. The ends of his red coat flopped in the air, making it seem like if it was alive. The boy didn’t seem to care because he left both his hair and coat do their thing. He looked over the ocean with bright blueish-grey eyes that were full of sadness. Loki wondered what made him so sad but didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business in the first place anyway.

There was just something about him. Something that Loki couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it made him tremble with anticipation. The boy was an itch in the back of his mind, just begging to be scratched, but too far away to be touched. Any time he seemed to be close enough, something led him away as if his mind didn’t want Loki to find out what was so weird about the boy.

“Um… Hey?” he tapped boy’s shoulder lightly.

The boy perked up, turning really fast to look at Loki. It almost seemed like he was waiting for him to speak up. But that wasn’t possible right? It wasn’t like he knew him.

“Yes?”

“Does it bother you?” Strange boy just looked at him, head slightly tilted to one side.

“What?”

Loki vaguely waved with the hand that held the cigarette.

“The smoke? Does it bother you?”

Boy’s face darkened with disappointment, but it was only for a moment because seconds later he flashed him another smile ( _fakefakefake_ ) and shook his head.                                                                                                                                                              

“No, if it was bothering me I wouldn’t sit here in the first place.”

The disappointment hasn’t left his voice as easily as his face and could still be heard when he spoke. His sorrow seemed to deepen too. Almost as if he was only swimming in it before, but now he finally stopped trying and went right under the surface, floating through the sea of sadness. One that swallowed him whole. But even then, he made Loki’s skin prickle as If his whole being was there to remind him of something he couldn’t reach. Even covered in satin sheets of sorrow, he still was a bright red splotch of colour, shining in the world of dull blues and greys.

“Actually, I-I wanted to ask if I could get one of those? Please?”

Loki found himself pulling out both the box and the lighter automatically. Which spoke for itself because he never shared his cigarettes. _Never ever_. Until now apparently. But it was of course just because the guy was cute when he stuttered and looked so sad that it made Loki feel sorry for him.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. There you go.”

The boy just smiled faintly and nodded in a way that meant “Thank you.” And took the lighter and one cigarette from the box. His hands trembled slightly, but Loki didn’t think they shook because of cold. It wasn’t _that_ cold, and the boy kept them buried in his coat from pretty much his first appearance. Loki saw the scars second later when the boy lit his cigarette. They were long and thin, but faded and long healed, and ran down his long fingers, across the knuckles, and probably ended somewhere under the boy’s coat and sweater. He guessed that they were of surgical origin, but he had no idea what kind of surgery it was or for what reason it happened. _Why was everything about this guy so mysterious?_

 The stranger gave him the lighter silently back and Loki accepted it in the same silent manner. They didn’t talk, didn’t look at each other, they just sat there in each other’s presence both lost in their own heads. The waves kept on crashing into one another, seagulls still chirped, and wind blew. For a moment, everything was back to normal and Loki even forgot about that strange boy who sat just inches away and was an itch in his mind. An itch that kept on itching and itching without sings of stopping.

But the moment passed away in the exactly same time as Loki felt a hand touch his knee. He turned around in the speed of light, his hair following his head seconds later. He opened his mouth to start… okay, he had no idea what he was planning to do, but it didn’t matter anyway because stranger’s lips were on his, and one scarred hand laid gently on the back of his neck, and it was _warmwarmwarm_ and felt so right, but so wrong at the same time. Loki pushed the other boy away and scrambled away and onto his legs. _This was wrong. He didn’t even know him!_ Except for something screaming in his mind that he was the one wrong. That he should know him. And the itch kept on itching together with his thoughts made it seem like the world turned crazy out of sudden. Whole world started spinning, the surrounding sounds blurred into one and he just wanted to run and scream. And scream he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Boy just gulped, bowing his head down to look at the bench. It was quiet again. Loki wiped his mouth, green pupils blown wide and face red with anger he spoke again, now more quietly.

“Hey! The least you can do is answer.” It came out more as a growl, but he didn’t really care, if nothing else, the guy could at least say sorry. The answer came, although not the one Loki expected or wanted.

“So, you don’t remember me then.” His voice was quiet, broken, and Loki just gave up. This was too much.

He started running towards the town, he ran and ran and didn’t look back. He ran through the streets and across roads, not looking if any cars were around, the air burned in his lungs, his hip and heart stung. He ran all the way to his apartment and up the stairs.

Loki slammed the door and went right to his bedroom, not bothering to answer worried calls from Heimdall (who owned this house and lived in the apartment under Loki’s and let him there live for free). He hid himself in the sea of pillows and covers. There were tears in the corners of his eyes and he blinked them away. His head hurt, his lungs hurt too, and he just wanted to sleep and forget about everything that happened today.

But he couldn’t. The boy in the red coat (how Loki started privately referring to him) was on his mind and the itch kept on itching. His voice sounded in his head repeating all the words he said.

_So, you don’t remember then._

 Should he remember him? Did he know him? He didn’t remember. ( _didntrememberdidntremember)._ The sleep still wasn’t coming and at this point Loki was too exhausted to even care. His thoughts went racing, all different but still similar in their manner. All were about the boy.

And so, he thought and thought until he fell asleep from exhaustion sometime later. He thought about the boy, whose hands were scarred and shook. About the boy in the red coat who brought colour to his world, whose colours shined cutting through dull surroundings. He thought about the boy in the red coat, who wore sorrow like a second skin, who smelled of rain, earth and mystery. Who had air of familiarity around him that made Loki’s head spin.

 

 

 

 


End file.
